Dancing King
by AngelCakes4913
Summary: "I care about you." More than anything else in the world, he wants to be who he has always been to her. The annoying brother who never (always) makes it better. But he can't fix this, it's not the way his mind and heart want it to be.


**A/N: I've got these one-shots where my heart used to be. Also, I've come to the conclusion that with a show like The** **Thundermans** **...yeah, nothing is off limits at this point. After "Floral Support" I'm going with Max has recently figured out his feelings for Phoebe and he's just looking for the right opportunity to go for it. Tumblr prompts are the best kind of prompts.**

It was prom night at Hiddenville High and that meant loud indecipherable music, offensive dancing, and lovey-dovey couples, which almost always fell into the category of romance. All the things Max couldn't care less about. But there was something he overheard Principal Bradford talking about to one of the teachers in charge of the dance. Something that caught his attention.

Prom King.

Also known as King.

Which was something Max would one day be after he conquered the world of course. So winning Prom King would be a start in the right direction. That was the only reason why he was here in the first place. It was also why he spotted her.

Phoebe stood near the wonderfully _cheap_ looking fountain of punch, donning a red solo cup and a frown, Link couldn't make it tonight because he had to help his father restock the store with mattresses, he hadn't gotten the chance to tell her because business had been so busy lately. She only found out last minute.

She felt someone's eyes on her, the gaze feeling heavy on her shoulders and like magnets their eyes locked on to each other, even through the sea of people.

She was wearing that blue dress he bought her from a few weeks ago, and he bit down on the inside of his jaw to keep himself in check. They didn't see each other when they were getting ready, she wanted to be cordially early while he wanted to be fashionably late. And so they were meeting up for the first time tonight.

Her make-up done minimally but still looking natural (just the way he liked it), and her hair falling like a silk black curtain over her shoulders. Honestly, she looked amazing -gorgeous, words he didn't think were appropriate to describe her with.

"Sup, Pheebs." He grabbed the red cup out from her limp grip and took a large swig, before moving passed her to refill it with more punch for himself.

When he was back in her line of sight Phoebe eyes scanned up and down his frame, he was sporting an all black European cut suit with a red handkerchief. He looked really handsome under those fresh clothes, working for Mr. Evilman surely had its advantages and _disadvantages_.

Max confidently stepped back to tug on the collar of his suit jacket, as if to show off silently thinking _'don't I look good?'_ in a suave James Bond kind of way. She nodded in return and he grinned at her.

"Hey, Max..." She tried to smile, but it soon faltered as she looked at her feet.

Max caught the discomfort with ease. "Where's Sir-Links-A-Lot?" Something obviously wasn't right, he glanced around the ballroom, casually sipping on his drink.

"He didn't show. Had to work." She crossed her arms over her chest, staring fiercely into the distance.

"...You gonna be okay?" He asked truly caring, but also struggling to fight back the feeling of relief spreading in his chest. She didn't have a date and neither did he, the only difference between them was that he didn't _want_ a date. Prom had been all what Phoebe - and Link - would talk about for the past couple of weeks.

"Yeah, uh, I'll be alright." She shrugged, and pulled her mouth to the side. Her eyes traveled back to the drink in his hands, and she took it back, sipping and letting whatever it was burn in her chest.

He watched her.

She watched him watching her.

"Attention! Attention students! It's time to reveal our Prom King and Queen, gather around!" One of the 'chaperones' voiced into the microphone in the middle of the stage.

The time was now, and Max rubbed his hands together menacingly when he saw Bradford hand out the first envelope. Phoebe simply squinted at him in suspicion.

Since when did he care about who was crowned?

"This year's Prom King is...Max Thunderman?" The woman and everyone else in the room shared perplexed looks amongst each other but nonetheless clapped, as if this was unexpected, which it most certainly was.

But Max didn't care.

"You fixed the votes didn't you?" It wasn't a question and she would have been disappointed, maybe a tad angry because that title clearly belonged to someone else, but as the night dragged on so did her morale.

Max turned his back to wink at her before rushing up the stage to retrieve his rewards. He rudely snatched his crown and sash from the lady before waving to the crowd. His mind at a high as he thought of his future demands and requests.

"Ahem," The nameless woman cleared her throat, after practically being manhandled. "And now for Prom Queen, Miss...Phoebe Thunderman!" A massive amount of cheers and roars soon followed.

But Phoebe felt her feet were rooted to the ground and for five seconds she didn't move a muscle, not until Cherry hauled her up the stage, they placed the crown and sash on her without protest. Whatever she was feeling definitely did not match with Max's emotions.

Was he _smirking_?

Cameras flashed, arms shoved, and bodies moved. In a blur, they find themselves in the center of the dancefloor, just the two of them while their classmates -and nosy ones as Max might've added, gathered around in a circle in mild anticipation for the slow dance to start.

The lights dimmed with the exception of blues and purples swirling around them and a decades-old love song began playing in the background.

An embarrassed and shy Phoebe carefully placed both her hands onto Max's shoulders, holding him back awkwardly at arm's length. Her eyes peering everywhere but on him, she spots Cherry and Oyster in the corner of her eye, locked in an embrace, clearly enjoying each other's company.

"Why would you rig the votes for me?" She half asked, half scolded in confusion, finally focusing onto him. She jumped slightly when she noticed the intensity held in his gaze, a fire scalding in his irises that had her taken aback, this was something she'd never seen from him before. Probably in all her life.

"I didn't," He simply rolled his eyes and twirled her quickly -and not at all smoothly into his chest. "But I should've known you'd win it." His hands hang low on her waist, and he pulls her closer.

"I don't know Max..." She trailed, and her arms unmindfully encircle around his neck, allowing him to sway their bodies in perfect harmony. Suddenly, it's too hot in here. It's not like they were dancing exhaustingly, but Phoebe felt like she was having trouble catching her breath.

And then Max is doing this thing with his _hands_ , where he's rubbing small patterns into her sides. Phoebe has to stop herself from letting her eyelids flutter and for her head to lull to the side.

"You're tense."

 _This isn't like him._

"I'm skeptical."

 _What else is new?_

"Don't be."

"But-"

"-No. Phoebe, just for tonight, forget about all the labels, forget about right and wrong, forget about Link, and just...just dance with me." He huffs out and he's standing in between frustrated and the jealous. He wants to enjoy the moment because he knows after tonight they will end up going back to playing their _roles_.

The annoying brother who pulls pranks and hangs with outcasts, and the sister who gets great grades and saves the world. He's already won Prom King and now he has a new goal. Tonight they can just pretend they aren't those people, tonight they were simply (prom) King and Queen, blending in with the other couples who didn't have a care in the world.

At least after _tonight_.

Max spun her again, but only half way. Pulling her back flush against his chest, while his strong hands ( _again with his hands_ ) burn like hot coals into her lower stomach, his head resting on the crook of her neck and shoulder. Never missing a beat, he still leads them through the chorus.

Phoebe could only close her eyes and give in. Hands - now hers - rest lightly on top of his holding her.

Here. Now. This is just too good, really good.

Prom night would just be another moment, shared between the two of them never to be spoken of again

At least until after tonight.


End file.
